


Far, Far Away

by Smallerthanlife



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Drugged Sex, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Forced Pregnancy, Gang Rape, Multi, Sexual Slavery, Suicidal Ideation, Unconscious Sex, corrective rape
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-06-14
Packaged: 2019-04-06 18:48:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 24
Words: 22,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14063175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smallerthanlife/pseuds/Smallerthanlife
Summary: Dark!Cullen blackmails Lavellan into keeping quiet, and slowly takes control.(Written for Dragon Age Kink Meme. Mind the tags and take care of yourselves, friends. This story isn't nice.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay friends, this is something I've been writing on and off (mostly off) since early 2015. I'm doing a quick edit of the earlier parts, and re-posting it here.

Ellana looked like her. 

Cullen tried to dismiss his preoccupation by telling himself that the similarities were superficial: light hair cut just above the shoulders for convenience, staff at her back, and a tiny elvish frame only made weaker by her reliance on magic. He tried to tell himself that these thoughts were delusions brought on by desperation and lyrium withdrawal. But every time he looked at Inquisitor Lavellan the memories came back. While sitting at a war council she would lean into her staff, frowning as Josephine gave her reports, and all he could think about was Neria Surana wrinkling her brow as she poured over a difficult text in the circle library. Ellana would come to his office to give a follow-up after a mission and his mind would fill with memories of another elf moving atop him in his bed, face turned upward in a cry of ecstasy. And, of course, when he saw Ellana and Sera kissing so unashamedly on the tavern roof he would think of the first kiss he shared with Neria –with anyone—hidden in some cramped corner of the Ferelden circle. 

All of those memories were tainted with revulsion and nearly brought the taste of bile to his lips. The Circle had fallen. His friends, his brothers-in-arms, had been killed by those blighted, power-hungry mages. And when Neria had returned from Maker knows where with an apostate and that bumbling ex-templar at her side, she had refused his command. Even as he knelt there, trembling and exhausted from hours of torture, she had ignored his pleas that she kill the few remaining so that no malificarum or abominations would be spared. She had betrayed him. When he received the news that she had died there, on the top of Fort Drakon, he had silenced the ache in his stomach by calling it justice. 

They were all the same, and Ellana was just like the rest.

She had to be.


	2. Chapter 2

Cullen looked up as Ellana burst through the doors of the war room.

“You have news of my clan?” she asked, collapsing onto a chair to catch her breath.

Leliana remained bent over the table, but met Ellana’s eyes. “Yes, Inquisitor. Our operatives have helped to move the Lavellan clan to a safe and easily defended area.” Ellana sighed, and leaned back in the chair. Leliana smiled just slightly at her relief, then she drew her body completely upright, taking in a deep breath.

“There is one thing that I find concerning. We discovered that these ‘bandits’ were mercenaries. Hired by the Duke of Wycome,” Leliana said. Ellana went very still, and Cullen kept his eyes fixed on her. “We aren’t exactly sure as to his motivations for hiring the mercenaries," Leliana continued. There are rumors that one of the Dalish from clan Lavellan was responsible for the unsolved murder of three guards and a civilian woman a few years ago. I doubt that is true. Personally I think this attack on your clan was an act of thoughtless xenophobia more than anything else.” 

Ellana nodded, but still did not speak. Josephine cut in.

“Rest assured, Inquisitor, we will investigate the Duke of Wycome as soon as possible. This will be settled.”

Ellana mumbled her thanks, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. Probably Josephine interpreted her discontent as worry for her family. Cullen knew better. She had gone pale when Leliana spoke about the murder. The girl knew something about it. He was nearly certain. Of course she would be involved: a mage’s existence was death, murder, and sin. He had already known that Ellana wouldn’t be different. His hands curled into fists beside him. For the rest of the meeting he could focus on nothing but her. That familiar anger filled him. Just like with Surana, he had started to let himself think about her as a woman. As desirable. The thought made him sick but he could not help it. He wanted to run his fingers through Ellana’s hair, to grab her little waist as he threw her to the floor and… He shook his head, his entire body tense at the effort of ridding himself of these thoughts. The girl, although in an important position, was still a mage. Filthy, demonic, and cursed by the Maker. He could not let himself crave the touch of her flesh.

After the meeting was over he left immediately, without speaking to anyone. Let them attribute it to the lyrium withdrawals. He had to be alone.


	3. Chapter 3

Ellana sat alone in the throne room, right outside the door to her chambers, and listened to the blizzard rage outside. She had been drinking and talking with Bull, Dorian, and Varric, but they had long since retired to bed. Although she knew that she desperately needed rest as well, she could not bring herself to move up to her room. Sleeping seemed impossible, frightening so soon after her literal visit to the fade. To make matters worse, Sera wouldn’t be there beside her to hold her through her nightmares.

_I saw you. In the void. Gone. Eyes shut and everything._

Ellana shook her head and lifted the bottle to her lips, trying to find some comfort from the memory of their fight. From Sera’s heartbreaking confession.

_I can’t see it again. I can’t be with you and see it again._

Setting aside her empty bottle, she sighed and rested her head on the table, listening to the angry sound of the wind. She didn’t realize she had fallen into a light sleep she was awakened by a door opening behind her. She sat up and twisted around to see Cullen walking from the war room. Earlier that day Cassandra had mentioned that Cullen was working himself to exhaustion, staying up hours into the night looking over reports and strategies and plans. When he noticed her he froze, then slowly walked towards her.

“Where’s your lover, Herald?” he asked, taking a seat across from her.

“Not here,” she said, looking away.

“Oh? And is this a temporary situation?” he asked as he tilted his head slightly. Silence. All she could hear was the wind outside of the fortress blowing the snow across the night. 

“I don’t know, Commander,” she finally admitted. Although she didn’t see any way they could continue their relationship after the events of the day, she couldn’t bear to say it out loud. Not yet.

Cullen seemed to be leaning in towards her. Ellana shuddered. Although she had never lived in a circle and had always managed to stay far away from Templars, she bore them no great love. Normally she did not necessarily view Cullen primarily as Templar, but at that moment she felt nervous. It was probably her own foolishness. Some effect of her recent journey to the fade or the strange and exaggerated darkness from the storm. Those things were making her skittish. Jumpy. Still, her heart beat too quickly and she stared down at her hands. _Please, please, please leave,_ she chanted over and over again in her head. 

“It was you, wasn’t it? You were the one who murdered those people?" he asked, raising one eybrow. Now her nervousness grew into horror and her eyes darted up to meet his. How did he know? How could he possibly know? He set his jaw tightly at her reaction. “Then it was you,” he muttered. “Now tell me, what do you suppose Josephine would think? Or Empress Celene? Or…Duke Wycome?” His eyes narrowed at that last name.

Ellana gripped her seat, head reeling. “No. He can’t know. He would kill us all. My entire clan. No matter what help you gave us,” she said, voice quivering. Cullen leaned even farther over the table. 

“Maybe we should go somewhere…quieter…while we discuss what the Inquisition can do to protect your little clan," he said, rising from the table. At his words she felt a twinge of sharp fear deep in her stomach. This was wrong. What did he mean “somewhere quieter?” Weren’t they already alone? He waved a hand towards the door of her room. Her brain was urging her to panic, but she could not bring herself to pull back when he took her by the arm and helped her up. When he guided her through the door and up the stairs, he rested his hand gently on her shoulder. By the time they reached the top of the stairs she was trembling with helpless fear. She hadn’t felt anything like it since she had awakened, shackled and in pain, at Cassandra’s feet all those months ago. Slowly, she turned to him.

“What did you want to discuss?” she said, fighting with everything she had to keep even the strength in her voice.

“I want to know why you killed them.” he demanded. She choked back the lump in her throat, hesitating. "You will tell me,” he continued, words thick with tension.

“We were camping near Wycome. To trade,” She began. “One of our own went missing. A young woman, our halla keeper, who had been recently married.” She paused. She did not want to tell the rest of this story, especially not here, with Cullen looking at her so intensely she wanted to disappear.

“…and then?” he prompted, stepping closer to her.

“We found her inside the city and she had been… tortured. Killed. I went with the Keeper and the woman’s husband to the city guard to ask for answers, help, justice…anything,” she swallowed. “They laughed us away, calling us horrible things. Calling her horrible things. One of them even said… He said that he would have done it to her himself had he been there. I came back later, by myself, determined to…well I don’t know what I intended. I was young and angry, and I caught a few of them leaving the barracks at the same time. When I confronted them and they tried to raise a hand against me I struck them down. There was a woman nearby. A beggar. In my anger I didn’t notice her. The spell killed her as well.” Ellana inched away from him slowly, arms crossed defensively over her chest.

“You lost control,” he said, his brow creasing in anger. “I would have you locked up and made tranquil if the order hadn’t fallen. If you weren’t the only damn thing that can close the holes in the sky! You speak for equality and freedom but you neglect to mention that your power permitted you to murder.” He closed the final distance between them, and grasped her by the shoulder, pushing her back until she was trapped against the wall. Ellana felt her terror coil tightly inside of her, until she thought she might pass out or be sick from the desperate fear. Cullen’s grip tightened painfully, and she winced. He spoke again, his voice now quiet and soft. “Do you know what it would mean for us if someone found out? Do you know what it would mean for your family?” He reached out to cup her face in hand. “Yes. I think you know. I think you would do anything to keep that secret from coming to light.” Then he pressed his lips to hers. 

As Cullen kissed her she made a muffled whimper. He used his far superior weight to pin her firmly against the wall. Her entire body was tense, hands drawn to fists at her sides, but she didn’t try to push him away. Good. He moved his tongue past her lips, devouring her even as she stood there unresponsive to his movements. Suited him just fine. However, when he reached up to grab at a breast she gasped and arched back, trying to twist away from him. He broke the kiss and grabbed her by the hips, dragging her back towards him.

“Don’t fight me. You know what the consequences are,” he warned. He pulled her away from the wall and then shoved her to the bed. As soon as she landed, she shot upright. Taking a deep, shuddering breath he knelt beside her on the bed, and lifted her loose shirt over her head. He could see her hands lift off the mattress, as if she could barely stop herself from trying to push him away, trying to swat away the fingers on her shirt. But she apparently decided that she knew better as she let her arms fall back down and squeezed her eyes shut. When he had her free of the thing he, he forced her on her back by her shoulders, legs dangling off the side of the bed. He stood and gripped the waistband of her trousers, pulling them over her hips and down her legs. Then she was bare in front of him, eyes dull and confused with shock. His every breath was painful, now. She had drawn her legs up on the bed when he had released her and now she tried to curl up into herself. Cullen climbed back over her and pulled on one of her ankles to straighten her out, straddling her just above the knees. Then he paused. It felt like his heart was going to stop, seeing her like this. He ran his hands over her breasts, down the plane of her stomach. One hand moved to her groin, searching for the place where the separation began, and then wiggling a finger lower. She yelped as if in agony, squirming underneath him and covering her face with her hands to hide the emotion there. He clenched his teeth together, working his fingers faster.

“Is this how Sera makes love to you?” He enunciated each word, intending them to pierce. “Or is like this?” He shifted backwards so he could lean his head down, his tongue rolling over her. When he found her clit, her legs jerked so forcefully that he had to hold her down. He gripped her thighs as he pleasured her, so hard that the flesh around his fingertips was turning white. He brought her to orgasm like that, while she shuddered and screamed like he was killing her instead of bringing her pleasure. When her cries softened to whimpers, he sat up.

“No one can hear you,” he said. “Not with these stone walls and the storm outside.” He brought his hand back down to her cunt, and then pushed a finger inside of her. An idle thought occurred to him as he listened to her gasp at the invasion. “I wonder if you are a virgin,” he said, half to himself. 

From behind her hands she peeked at him, shaking her head in confusion. 

“I understand that you’ve had a female lover. What I mean is this: have you had anything more than her fingers, her tongue, inside of you?” The girl was shaking so intensely now and seemed to be overwhelmed with fear. Let the mage be frightened. It would do her well to be scared of him. Still, she didn’t respond to his question.

“I can make you tell me,” he said, moving a finger in and out of her. She bit her lip in defiance. Lying down across her body, he reached one hand up to grab her throat. He noticed her eyes widen as she felt him hard against her from beneath his trousers and then widen even more as he began to choke her.

“Have you ever been fucked? And I mean really fucked. By a man. In here,” he said, gesturing downward with his eyes and jabbing inside of her especially hard. She shook her head, mouthing something and clawing at his hand on her throat. 

“Good. We can certainly remedy that,” he said, and then released her. Ellana turned her head to the side, gasping and coughing. As he watched he began to remove his clothes, climbing off of her momentarily to complete the task. When he finally took off his trousers he ached for her in a way that nearly brought desperate tears to his eyes. As he laid himself back down over her he remembered his first time with Neria. She had been moderately experienced—not a virgin—and he had taken great care to be gentle, but still she had bled and moaned with discomfort. Elven women, it seemed, were not meant to take in human men. And Ellana seemed on the small side, even for an elf.

When Neria started to sleep with him, the few people that knew about their relationship assumed he had done something to coerce her. Even he had wondered at the way she sometimes bled and grimaced as he took her before the pleasure overshadowed the pain. He had always wished that Neria was more comfortable when they were together, but after her betrayal he felt differently. When he was alone he found himself imagining the details of her pain more than her pleasure. Cullen used to feel sick when he heard rumors about one of his brothers forcing himself on a woman from the Circle or when he listened to the crude jokes some Templars would make about how the women in the towers, especially the elves, were the Maker’s gift to them for their thankless jobs. But now that Neria was dead, now that mages had all but destroyed Thedas, and now that a murderess lay naked beneath him, Cullen thought he understood them.

He wanted to hurt Neria. And Ellana would do just fine taking her place.

He worked a knee between her thighs and pushed her legs apart. Seeing her like that, tears forming in her eyes, and her legs forced wide, left a twisted and incomprehensible mess of emotions in his chest. But he could no longer wait. He took himself in one hand and pressed it against her, searching. She grasped at the bedding Due to her panic, her inexperience, and her petite build, she was very, very small. So tiny that this was almost more frustrating that it was enjoyable. He pushed harder using his hips and the weight of his body. There was so much resistance. But when he slid in, just slightly he could not suppress a deep groan. For a moment he was still, head spinning with the feeling of it all, and then he thrust again. Soon he was all the way inside. She twitched beneath him, gasping breathlessly, as he began to fuck her hard and slow. Following the rhythm that he set, she let out whimpers and sobs. When he drove forward especially insistently, hitting against something deep inside of her, those little noises turned into hoarse screams. 

Then it seemed as if something broke inside of her, emotionally. She snapped up off of the bed, pushing against him, trying everything she could to slide out from beneath his heavy body. As she twisted she managed to dislodge him from inside of her and she gave a deep sob of relief. This hidden burst of strength surprised him, but even in her desperation she could not match the decades he had spent training. He grasped her by her shoulders and began to pull her back into place under him. Still, she did not give up. He sensed that she was calling to the Fade, searching desperately for the power to attack him. Though he no longer took lyrium he retained some of the powers of a Templar and could easily incapacitate her abilities as a mage. But his instincts led him to a more primal solution. He backhanded her, and the blow connected brutally with the side of her head, throwing her flat against the bed. Her head lolled to the side as her eyes fluttered open and closed. He knew that he really should have held back some of his strength to minimize the risk of visibly injuring her. After all, she held an important position and there was a limit to how much bruising she could explain away as a mage, even one who regularly engaged in combat. Still, he couldn’t deny that delivering the blow was satisfying and that seeing her now, half unconscious, was doubly so. As an extra precaution, he made sure to place a careful in her connection with the Fade so that even if she regained complete consciousness she would not be able to access any magic at all. When that was done he climbed atop her and pushed into her once again. This time she could not struggle at all. Her body was limp and she was distantly moaning from somewhere deep in her throat.

He grunted as he slammed into her even harder, growing faster with each thrust. When he noticed that she was opening her eyes for longer intervals and was tensing up again, he leaned down to whisper breathlessly in her ear. “You deserve this. You deserve this for what you did. For what you are.” For what Neria did. And with that thought he came, still inside of her

When Cullen finally rolled off of her, Ellana staggered from the bed and vomited into her chamber pot. She didn’t stop until there was nothing left inside of her, not even bile. When she was completely empty she noticed the blood and combined fluids dripping down her thighs and retched again, though she brought up nothing. She collapsed to the floor, too tired to cry, too tired to protest when Cullen picked her up from the cold floor and placed her beneath the covers of the bed. For one hopeful moment she thought he would finally leave her be, but then he crawled into bed next to her, pulling her close so that her head rested against his shoulder. He stroked her skin, lazily. Ellana felt filthy as he caressed her like she was a lover.

“It’s too cold to leave tonight,” he explained.

Ellana was in exhausted and in pain. Her head throbbed and with that came dizziness and blurred vision. Though she was lying completely still, she felt like the bed was rocking violently as Cullen held on to her. The ache between her legs was even worse than the pain in her head. She was leaving tomorrow to travel to the Western Approach on a mission. The journey would be agony in her current state and hiding her pain would be even worse.

“You won’t tell anyone. You know why you won’t,” Cullen said almost tenderly. He was still stroking her arm. She wanted to cry at the violation, the manipulation, and the pain, but she didn’t have even a fraction of the energy to do so. She simply laid there, trembling weakly, until her dizziness finally claimed her and she fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope the POV shifts don't give you whiplash. Or motion sickness. I like third limited, but apparently I didn't know about the difference when I wrote this, and to be honest, I don't feel like completely rewriting at the moment. Forgive me! I knew not what I did.


	4. Chapter 4

When Ellana, Varric, Cassandra, and the Iron Bull returned with their handful of Inquisition soldiers, they were met at the gates by a messenger boy.

“Commander Rutherford asked that the four of you meet with him for debriefing before you rest. He says it will be quick,” the boy said. Cassandra thanked him and sent him on his way.

“Let’s get this over with,” Varric sighed. “I’m sure I’m not the only one who could use some real food.”

Ellana said nothing. Her heart fluttered in her chest, and she only hoped that none of her companions noticed her feat.

 

As they shambled into Cullen’s office, he stood to meet them. 

“Did you take back the keep?” he asked eagerly. Ellana noticed that his eyes were focused on Cassandra and he seemed to be avoiding looking directly at her.

“Yes. We did. And few dead on our side,” she said, setting her shield down, and leaning back into chair.

“And Injuries?” he asked, as he wrote.

“Nothing serious,” she replied.

“You have the Inquisitor to thank for that,” said Bull. “She fought like a dragon. Killed most of them before they could touch us. Never seen her so fierce before.” Cullen met her gaze briefly and smiled. Her cheeks burned with shame.

“Anything pressing I should know about before I let you go?” Cullen asked.

“The water supply has been tampered with. We’ll need to find a new source, and soon,” said Cassandra, standing up again.

“Alright then. I’ll get to work on that. Would you mind if I kept you and asked you a few more questions, Inquisitor? The rest of you can go. I’ll speak with you one-on-one later.”

Ellana was silent and still. As the others left she felt her magic draining from her slowly, painfully until there was nothing left. She collapsed to a chair, gasping. Never before had she experienced being the subject of a Templar’s power like this, at least not while fully conscious, and it felt sickening.

“About the water supply…what’s the problem with it?,” he asked, tapping the thumb of his left hand against the desk. Ellana stared back at him. He looked at her expectantly, sitting casually with a pen in hand as if nothing had happened before she left, as if he hadn’t… She swallowed, trying to loosen up her throat enough to speak steadily.

“The previous occupants dumped bodies into the well under the keep. Probably deliberate sabotage,” she said, still nearly breathless. He scribbled down notes in a messy script.“Go up to the loft and wait,” he said casually, gesturing to the ladder. “I need to finish this report.” She felt like she had been hit directly in the center of her chest, as if all of the air had been forced out of her lungs. When he noticed that she had made no movement towards the ladder he sighed.

“Very well. It would have been more comfortable for you, over the bed,” he said as he stood, pushing the chair back.

Ellana looked to the side, trying to escape to somewhere deep in her mind as he locked the doors. Once that was done, he pulled her from the chair, and stripped the long enchanter’s coat from off her shoulders. She wanted to run, to scream, to swat his hands away. But whenever her muscles tensed in preparation for movement, the faces of her sisters would flash through her mind. She would endure this. She had to endure this, or her family would die. He moved behind her and unlatched the belt buckle at her waist, with his arms circled around her. He had her trousers pulled down to her knees before she could decide whether or not to try to struggle away from his grasp. No. She couldn’t struggle. She knew that she had no choice. And even if he didn’t follow through on his threat he could still hurt her. Hit her again, as he did that first time, so the light hurt her head for days and she bruised under her eyes. He moved his hands from her hips to work open his own belt, and then he pushed her forward so she fell over the desk. He pressed his body against her, on top of her and clapped a hand over her mouth.

When he drove into her it hurt her worse than it had that first time. Her injuries had still not healed and this time her senses were not dulled by even something as trivial as the modest amount of alcohol she had in her system at the time. She screamed and cried but his hand muffled her desperate sounds. As he thrust against her, the table dug painfully against her hipbones with each movement, and she knew there would be bruises there by morning. The hand around her mouth tightened as he picked up speed, until she tried to pry it away, even as she screamed into it. Mercifully, miraculously, it did not take long for him to finish. He pushed deep inside of her a final time, and then let her drop to her knees. As he moved to take his seat behind the desk he straightened his clothes.

“I'm organizing a unit to provide further defense to clan Lavellan...unless problems arise. Go get cleaned off and rest.” he said, not bothering to look at her as he returned to his work. Trembling, she began to gather her clothes, and then noticed she was bleeding. It was worse than before. Little rivulets of blood trickled down the inside of her thighs, staining the trousers that were still bunched around her knees. She pulled them up and then wrapped the coat tightly around her body to hide the blood on her clothes. Before he could change his mind and pull her back towards him for more, she turned and fled from the room.


	5. Chapter 5

Ellana spent the next few days worrying about when Cullen would next come wanting her. She clung to Varric and Dorian and Josephine, always trying to convince them to stay up late with her to avoid being alone. She wondered if they thought that her behavior was caused by the end of her relationship with Sera. The thought embarrassed her, honestly, but not enough for her to stop begging for their company. Whenever she was alone all she could do was listen for his footsteps and scratch her skin where it itched from the memory of his touch. If not for the pain between her legs she might have started to wonder if she had imagined the whole thing. When they sat at war meetings together he was calm and polite and addressed her respectfully. There was no hint of the cruelty she had faced by his hands when they were alone.

Three nights after she returned to Skyhold, Ellana was awakened by a hand on her shoulder. Startled and still half asleep she scrambled back to the other side of the bed. When she realized where she was and saw Cullen beside the bed, her panic deepened into dread.

“Leliana got a letter today,” he said as he began to remove his clothes. Ellana collapsed back to the bed, trying to shake herself from sleep. “You don’t seem very interested, Inquisitor," He continued. "The letter was from Leliana’s agent with clan Lavellan.” Ellana took in a sharp breath. 

“What did it say?” she asked, biting her lip.

“There is a plague in Wycome, affecting only the humans. Duke Antoine has begun to purge the alienage. The people blame the Dalish for the 'knife-eared plague,” he said. Ellana flinched at the slur and Cullen kicked off his trousers then climbed naked into the bed beside her. He leaned over to run a finger across her pointed ear. Ellana looked to the side, conspicuosly avoiding eye contact. “Leliana says she thinks that any little thing could cause this suspicion to boil over. Any little thing could give them reason to attack the clan camping so near to their borders.” Ellana trembled under his touch, more in fear for the lives of her kin than in anticipation of her inevitable rape. He remained on his back and pulled her over him so that she was lying atop him. He touched her bare calves and ran his hands upward, hooking them under the hem of her loose nightgown and pulling it to her waist as he went. She could feel him, reaching between their bodies, as he pushed his cock inside of her. She gasped, eyes blinking open. Every nerve along the exposed skin of her arms and legs seemed to ache, and she shivered, involuntarily. His hands moved to her hips, urging her to sit up atop him. The movement only impaled her further, and her gut clenched. Though she still avoided looking directly at him, she could see that he watched her with a smile. He gestured to the nightgown, still bunched about her waist.   
“Take it off,” he commanded and she pulled it over her head, hesitating only slightly. She could not bear to watch his face as he reached up to touch her breasts, so she screwed her eyes shut. When his hands dropped from her chest he brought them back to her hips. As he touched her she remained perfectly still.  
“You’re going to have to be more enthusiastic than that, my dear,” he said, digging his fingernails into her thighs. A thrill of disgust ran through her. He wanted her to fuck him. Grabbing her, he urged her hips forward, pushing her even deeper upon him. Still she was frozen. Cullen sighed and took a fistful of her hair, twisting it so hard that the sound he elicited from her was nearly a scream. She pushed her hips forward in an awkward, experimental movement. When he released his hold on her hair she assumed that it meant she had pleased him and did it again.

This was certainly less painful than the other times he had taken her, but it was infinitely more humiliating. She was moving atop him, pleasuring him, drawing long moans from his body. It felt like she was there forever, aching and shuddering at the feeling of him sliding inside of her and especially at the thought that she was the one controlling it. When she fell forward with a particularly fast thrust, his breath hitched. 

“Yes,” he hissed. “Like that. Harder.” She continued to push herself down upon him until she thought he was about to orgasm. Then she slowed.

“Please, not inside of me,” she begged, voice at a soft whisper. She tried to move herself off of him but he grabbed her by her hips, drawing blood with his fingernails and slamming her back down upon him.

“Harder,” he insisted, ignoring her plea. She was too terrified to continue, but he grabbed her by the hips, moving her himself. No long after that, he shuddered and tensed, and she realized that he had finished inside of her. She tried her best not to vomit. 

When he pushed her off she noticed that she had left blood upon him, illuminated by the moonlight coming in through the windows. She sighed.

“I need healing,” she said, holding up a hand that had touched the blood.

“You can’t go to a healer. Too many questions.” He said it as a statement of fact—a command—rather than an argument.

“I could get infections. The…tearing could worsen,” she said, tasting bile.

He looked up. “You are sure the blood is not from your cycle?” Despite the circumstances, Ellana let out a short, biting laugh. This blood was bright red and thin and hardly resembled menstrual fluid.

“I bleed every time you take me. Does that sound like my menses to you?” Her words were sharp. Accusatory. They hung in the air between them and Ellana drew away, scared that she had angered him.

“Fine. Go to a healer. Find one outside Skyhold and go anonymously,” he said, rising from the bed and gathering his clothes.

Ellana sighed in relief, angry at how grateful she felt when she thanked him.


	6. Chapter 6

Cullen came to her several more times before she left Skyhold again, and he was never gentle when he raped her. Afterwards, however, he would occasionally hold her with disturbing tenderness, as he did that first night. Sometimes she thought she hated it more than anything else he did to her, though it was comforting enough if she closed her eyes and pretended he was someone else. All the while she kept that fear, deep in her heart, that all of this would be for nothing and that her clan would be killed anyway. She got letters from the keeper and from her sister detailing the tensions between the Dalish and Wycome, letters that kept her up through the night with worry. When she left for the Hinterlands with a group of her companions she relieved herself of the stress through exhaustion, killing whatever enemies they put before her: Venatori, red templars, dwarven carta members, or anything else. She was so tired of blood: blood from her battle wounds, from between her legs and the blood of the creatures and people that she killed. She wondered often if she was good for anything other than to be used for killing and sex, and she came to the conclusion that she wasn’t. 

At least, not anymore.

It was over a week until she was finally able to get away from the group while they were camping in the Hinterlands. She shed her armor and staff in the wilderness and slipped on a worn dress she had bought at Skyhold, along with heavy gloves. No one would look twice at an unarmed elven girl in plain clothes, even one with Vallaslin.

Her heart was beating fast when she got to Redcliffe and she tugged at her gloves to make sure they were on securely, covering her mark. She had heard of a healer who had fled Kinloch Hold for Redcliffe when it had fallen. Although she did not know her name she had managed to find a description of where she lived. Upon arrival, she hesitated at the door before she knocked. A middle aged woman with dark, curling hair opened the door, and looked at her expectantly. Ellana took a deep breath.

“I need healing. I've heard you can help,” she said, too quickly, clenching her fists at her side. The woman sighed deeply and shifted on her feet. “I have money!” Ellana continued. “I can pay you well for your services.” The woman raised an eyebrow, glancing over her patched dress and pointed ears.

“Very well. Come in,” she said, gesturing inward. The house was small, inside, and two young children played on the floor. 

“Now what do you need healing for?” she asked as she shut the door. Ellana glanced towards the children and blushed. The woman’s eyes darkened.

She dismissed the little ones by telling them to go play outside, near the house, and they happily obliged. She turned towards Ellana after they went. “My sister’s children. And her home. Lucky I had family nearby when the circle fell.” The woman placed an old sheet over the already made bed in the corner. “Now tell me what I can help you with.”

“I have…injuries,” she said, shifting on her feet. 

“From sex?” the woman guessed. Ellana nodded. “Lay down. I’ll take a look.” She got on the bed and pulled her skirt to her waist, and then slid her underclothes down her legs and off her body. The woman instructed her to bring her feet up to the bed and bend her knees. Her eyebrows furrowed together as she looked. She got permission and then gently touched inside of her, asking where it hurt and inspecting the damage.

“How long has this been happening to you?” she asked, eyes forced emotionless.

“A month, maybe more?” Ellana said, looking to the side.

“And is it one person or more than one?” The woman asked, worrying her lip with her teeth.

“Just one," Ellana said, almost unable to breathe for the tension in her chest.

“Can you get away from him? Tell someone?” She asked again. Ellana shook her head.  
“He’s too powerful,” she whispered.

The woman nodded sadly and then took her staff in hand. The other hand rested lightly on her lower stomach. As she healed her, Ellana began to cry. It wasn’t sobs but slow, streaming tears. It had been so long since she had cried in front of anyone but Cullen and she felt uncomfortably exposed. Still the juxtaposition of this gentle moment with the assault she frequently experienced left her confused. Sad. When the woman was done she turned away to wash her hands.

“I’ve healed you all I can. You might still end up with painful scar tissue, especially if this keeps happening," she said, over her shoulder. Ellana wiped away her tears and thanked her as she sat up. “Have you taken any precautions to avoid pregnancy?” the woman asked. Ellana shook her head and then watched her as she went to the cabinet and pulled out a few items.

“Make tea out of this and drink it after every time,” she told her, handing her a pouch. “It’s essentially a mild poison, so it may make you feel tired but shouldn’t harm you.” Ellana adjusted her clothing, then pulled coins out of her pocket and offered them. The woman took the coins, set them aside and then grasped her gloved hand.

“I feel like a monster, sending you back to the person who is doing this to you. If you have no other options, I can ask my sister if you can stay here. I am sure we could use the help, and you would be safe here,” she said.

“No...I...I can't," she said, pulling her head away. "Thank you...but. He'll find me. And then you'd be in danger too. You and your sislter and the little ones."

“At least promise me that if I can help you, you will come find me," she called after Ellana as she moved towards the door. Ellana nodded her agreement and walked through the door, leaving the house and the woman behind.


	7. Chapter 7

Cullen was always out of sorts when she was away. He hated her for that. Even though he had her firmly in his control, she still held too much power over him. Over his emotions. He was amazed at how wonderful it felt to hurt her and find pleasure in her body even as she fought him. It was just too delicious, watching her try so unsuccessfully to suppress her little sounds of pain—occasionally even of shameful pleasure. The best was when she cried and didn’t want him to see. She turned away or hid her face behind her hands as she shook. The sight of it temporarily quieted the anger that had burned within him for so long and it soothed the withdrawal symptoms. But still, using the girl as an antidote was an imperfect solution. She was away often, like she was now, and he craved her flesh and her tears even more than the lyrium when he couldn’t have them. It was also frustrating how he always had to hide and sneak and plan to come to her. What he really wanted was to keep her as a pet, chained in his room. He would ensure that her magic was always drained completely from her body. He would feed her only when she pleased him especially well, to keep her constantly weak and trembling in his arms. That way she would be of no danger to anyone around her ever again. That way he could have her forever.

He sighed and pushed aside the papers on his desk, pulling himself out of the fantasy. She was the most visible woman in Thedas at the time. It would never happen. Deciding on a walk across the battlements to clear his mind, he stood and left his little office. It was impossible for him to work like this: so obsessed with her that it was all he could think about. Dark had already fallen outside, and in the courtyard below he could see people moving. He felt a rush of anticipation as he realized who it was: Ellana and her group, returning from the Hinterlands. They would not come to him to report this late, probably assuming he had already retired. It would not be long before they themselves went to bed, no doubt happy for a clean and warm place to sleep. He would wait until they settled and then go to her. 

When he reached the top of the stairwell he was welcomed with sight of her. She was kneeling inside of a washtub in the center of the room, bent forward to wet her hair with a bucket. She didn’t notice him, hadn’t heard him enter, so he watched her for a while. Taking soap in hand, she scrubbed through her tangled locks, working the dirt and blood out of it. As she bathed before him, illuminated by the combined light of the moon and the fire, he felt desperate possessiveness stir inside of him alongside his lust. He couldn’t have her. Not really. He could sate himself upon her and hurt her in most of the ways he desired; by now he knew that she would not tell. But he couldn’t keep her always beside him through the night. He couldn’t leave too many bruises on her body. He couldn’t forbid her from ever leaving. It just didn’t make sense that he couldn’t. The girl was obviously emotionally weak. Fragile. From the reports he heard that in battle she killed viciously and with astounding power. Dangerous. Volatile. Susceptible to possession, no doubt. She needed him to beat that out of her. And though he often considered that it was wrong that he wanted to touch something so obviously tainted, he knew that she deserved every punishment that could be heaped upon her. And, judging from his obvious hatred of the things that he did to her, this seemed as good a method of punishment as any. 

Still in the tub, she moved on to scrub her body, and when she was clean and rinsed she reached for the towel and stood. She saw him then, leaning against the stair railings, and she froze instead of startling. She held the towel over herself, exposing a breast, as the water dripped around her. He made the first move towards her and she stepped out of the tub, shivering and wrapping the towel around her body. At first he had intended to pull her to the bed and take her. But as he came close to her, the frustration from being denied her while she was gone came to the surface. He hit her across the face, a blow intended to send her to the ground. She fell at his feet, uttering an infuriatingly lovely cry of pain and surprise. He hadn’t actually hit her in a long while, not since that first night, and it gave him an incredible rush. She was dazed, unconscious maybe, and he took a step forward and kicked her in her belly. As she moaned so weakly and curled into herself, he felt himself growing painfully hard. Finally, he hoisted her by her up and threw her down upon the bed. Her nose was bleeding and she seemed almost unresponsive. The girl could choke on her own blood like this, on her back and unconscious, but in the moment he almost didn’t care. He needed to be inside of her. Before he laid on top of her he didn’t have the patience to do anything more than loosen his clothing. Penetrating her was tricky with her so completely unprepared, but when he managed it he felt ecstasy even more intense than he had ever felt with her. He rode her hard and shook her body violently as he did so. As he watched her he felt his emotions towards her turn into a bizarre warmth and suddenly wanted to kiss her. His shuddered through his orgasm as he pressed his lips against hers, so urgently it was as if he needed her to live, as if he was taking the life from her.

He thought that he too had passed out momentarily from the intensity of the moment when he finally moved off of her. As his rational judgement returned to him he turned her on her side. She was breathing, still, and the bleeding from her nose had all but stopped. He went to retrieve her damp towel and used it to clean the blood from her face. Once that was done, he lay beside her, and held her to his chest. Eventually she seemed to almost wake, but her eyes did little more than flutter open just long enough to stare at him in confusion. That was when he left her, pressing another kiss to her forehead before he walked out of her room, still remembering the pitiful sounds she had made because of him.


	8. Chapter 8

Three months after Cullen had first taken her, Ellana realized she was with child. When she had missed the first cycle it was easy to explain it away. Sometimes she didn’t bleed when she was under considerable stress or when she lost weight from exertion. It was hardly uncommon. But when she rose from her bedroll that morning and stepped outside into the early morning heat of the Exalted Plains, she felt her stomach lurch. She managed to stumble just outside of their little camp before she fell to her knees, retching violently. There was almost nothing her stomach, with how small her appetite had been recently, and so she brought up mostly bile. Still, her entire body heaved until her stomach was sore, brought on by the physical sickness as well as the horror of the realization. As of yesterday she had missed two menses in a row. And now she was nauseous. Her arms crossed over her belly and she thought of the concoction she had been taking consistently for weeks now to prevent this, and the healer in Redcliffe that she visited with some frequency for her hurts and for more herbs. And then she realized that if she had missed two cycles and was starting to show signs of pregnancy, then she must have conceived in those first few weeks, before she had even seen the healer.  
She didn’t realize that there were tears on her face until she felt a hand on her shoulder.

“You alright, Poppy?” said Varric from behind her.

“Yes,” she said, sniffling and scrambling to her feet. “I’m just feeling a little sick.”

“Well, we’re heading back to Skyhold. Think you can make it?”

She nodded, then suddenly leaned forward to retch again.

He reached out to steady her by her arm. “Let’s try to get some food in you. Something light. Or at least water. It should help.”  
Ellana did everything she could to ignore the fact that Cullen’s child was growing inside of her. Whenever she tried to hold the thought in her head, consider its implications she felt like she was going to fracture body from soul and tumble into the void. It couldn’t be real. It was too terrible to be real. She found herself disconnected with her memories more and more frequently. Sometimes she wondered if she was a spirit, drifting through the Fade and slipping only momentarily into the waking world. It almost surprised her when people said her name, looked at her, or addressed her. She only felt real when Cullen violently reminded her of her corporeal nature, and those moments made her want to retreat back into herself even more. 

He was lying beside her one night, after he had raped her. One hand was in her hair and another moved slowly across her body. Ellana was not quite asleep. She wasn’t sure if she could ever learn to quickly fall asleep like that, in a little pool of blood and semen with his hands all over her body. So she noticed when his hand stilled, resting firmly on her belly. He wrinkled his brow and sat up, running his fingers over the tiny lump in her abdomen where she had just barely begun to show. Before, her belly had been concave, especially with the bit of weight she had dropped in the last year. Her life had not been easy on her since her appointment as clan representative and then as inquisitor, positions which brought her to live among strangers. He had memorized the curves and planes of her body through the stolen nights at her side, and now he sensed that something had changed.

“Why are you confused?” she asked, not caring to coneal the bitterness in her tone. He insisted on always finishing inside of her. Surely he couldn’t be surprised that she was pregnant? Some part of her subconscious had assumed that this had been part of his intent all along.

“It is harder to impregnate elf women. It takes longer. It’s less likely,” he said. Ellana frowned. To her it seemed like a convenient myth, told between noblemen to reassure themselves after taking advantage of their elven servants. She had seen enough of this land to understand what they must be like. 

“I don’t think that’s true,” she said, at a whisper. He laid back down, looking thoughtful. 

“It has been making you sick?” he asked, reaching out to touch her belly again. She nodded, turning her head away. He grabbed her by the chin and forced her to look at him. "I bet you hate it, don’t you? Part of me always inside of you.” His eyes glinted.

Ellana had thought that by now she had shed all the tears she had left. Surely she had cried enough for a lifetime. But at this blatant enjoyment of her sorrow fat, hot tears filled her eyes. This seemed to arouse him again and he reached a hand down between her legs. He tried to bring her pleasure very rarely. It seemed that he only bothered when he wanted to break her especially thoroughly, because he knew how intensely she hated it. He had to clamp a hand around her mouth to muffle her screams and he pinned her down as she struggled. She hated everything about his ministrations. She hated the heat in her belly. She hated how her body shuddered no matter how much she tried to stop it. She especially hated the half smile on his face as he watched her. It hurt to remember how she enjoyed this before, the contentment as Sera touched her and called her beautiful. Now Ellana had altogether forgotten what desire felt like. When he succeeded in bringing her to orgasm it felt like she had been kicked in the gut and suddenly she couldn’t breathe. She gasped in great, shuddering sobs as he climbed back on top of her.

“You’ll get rid of it, of course. Your healer will see to that, yes?” he asked, stroking himself.

She nodded, bracing herself as he pushed back inside of her.


	9. Chapter 9

Leliana sat near Josephine and listened to the scratch of her pen as she worked. Josie was Leliana’s oldest friend after all the deaths in the past ten years. There was even a time soon after the fifth blight when it seemed like their relationship was going to progress to more than friendship, though that was interrupted by her hunt for Marjolaine and the opportunity had passed by the time they met up again. In any case, she didn’t take her friendships lightly, especially after the events conclave had killed so many that she loved dearly. It was comforting just to sit there, in Josie’s office, enjoying the easy silence between them. Leliana found that she best solved the more difficult problems as spymaster while with her. And the issue of Ellana Lavellan was the problem of the moment. 

“Josie?” Leliana said, speaking to catch her attention.

“Yes?” Josephine replied, setting aside her pen and making eye contact. Polite and careful, even now.

“It’s Inquisitor Lavellan. I’ve noticed a..concerning change in her behaviour,” said Leliana. Josephine frowned as she thought. 

“Well, there’s certainly reason enough for her to be acting strangely. For one, she’s been in a constant state of worry for the fate of her kin, what with Duke Antoine and his … prejudices.” Leliana nodded and sat back, listening. “Also, she’s been forced into the role of a divine figure in a religion that she doesn’t believe in, one which, by some accounts of history, was responsible for the scattering of her people.”

“That’s true,” said Leliana, and then she paused, deep in thought. “Still, I worry about her. Especially in the last few weeks. She’s a bright young woman but she seems subdued. Varric says she’s been much slower on the battlefield, that she’s been frequently sick as well.”

“Well there was that head wound she sustained about a month ago. That could be enough to still be affecting her functioning. Some people take months to recover fully from injuries like that,” Josephine pointed out. Leliana shook her head in exasperation. 

“I still don’t know how she managed to hide that from her companions all the way back to Skyhold," Leliana said. "She was concussed and her nose was broken. A blow like that should have knocked her unconscious, or nearly so.”

“She’s stubborn and doesn’t want to be a bother. I know her type," Jospehine said, smiling. "It does make her resilient, even if it can be dangerous for her in situations like that.”

"I feel like there is something I’m not noticing.” Leliana rested her head on one hands. 

“Any one of those things alone would be enough to seriously affect most people. She has to deal with them all. She is strong, but I’m sure she could use some extra support. She has been...more withdrawn, as of late," said Josephine, incling her head.

“I’ll ask Varric to try to keep her company. Look after her a little. He won’t mind. He’s been lonely too, now that Hawke is away again. I think Lavellan reminds him of an old friend,” Leliana said. Before long she busied herself reviewing the many other reports that were her responsibility, pushing all thought of Ellana Lavellan out of her head.


	10. Chapter 10

Ellana had been slower ever since Cullen had beaten her three weeks ago. Truth be told, she still wasn’t exactly sure what happened that night. She remembered getting into the bath but didn’t remember getting out of it, didn’t remember Cullen entering the room. She did have that vague memory of a flash of pain as something connected with her face. Other than that, all she knew was that she had awakened near dawn, alone in her bed, with a puddle of water on the floor next to the tub, blood on her face and inner thighs, and a stained towel beside her. She had pieced together the rest from the pain in her body and especially in her head. Her connection to the fade was weaker after that night, and it was harder to concentrate on forming spells. The disturbances in her balance and the near-constant, dull headache didn’t help either. 

She could have used that extra edge in her combat when they were ambushed by Venatori agents a day and a half’s journey away from Skyhold. The four of them took down their enemies easily enough, but due to her lingering head injury Ellana let them get nearer to her than she would usually allow. When the last of them had fallen, Ellana, the Iron Bull, Varric, and Solas stood warily, circling until they reassured themselves that there were no more in hiding.

“Is anyone hurt?” Bull asked, wiping and sheathing his sword. Ellana felt a sting on her bicep and looked down to see that a blow she had dodged had indeed onnected with her, just barely. It had sliced through to her skin and left a small cut. Easy enough to treat.

“Just a scratch,” she muttered. As they resumed their journey she reached into her pack to grab bandages and she wrapped her wound. It was nothing to worry about, honestly. She just didn’t want the little bit of blood trickling down her arm to further stain her clothing or to make her grip slippery. 

It was hours later when she felt the first twinge in her abdomen. She assumed it was nausea at first, but when it progressed into cramps she realized that something else was happening. Soon she felt something trickle down from between her thighs.   
“Can we stop for a moment?” she said to Bull, who was beside her.

“Sure boss. Whatever you need,” he said. Though he sounded casual she could see that he was searching her. Ellana knew that he could read people, see things about them. He would know that something was wrong. She could only hope that he would keep it to himself. Right now she didn’t need them worrying about her, pushing around to find out how they could help. 

They couldn’t help. Not with this.

Ellana stepped away from the group, into a little patch of trees when her abdomen seized again. She fell to her knees, suppressing a scream. With shaking hands she reached into the pack and took out some of the linen cloths that she used to catch menstrual fluid. She rolled one up tightly and pulled down her trousers. The bleeding had already stained through her clothes. Bull, Varric, and Solas would see. Honestly, she didn’t care, as long as they assumed this was normal menstrual bleeding. Because this wasn’t something so benign. This was a miscarriage. She wished with everything she had that this was happening back at Skyhold, somewhere she could endure the pain in solitude and safety. She was angry at herself waiting so long to go to the healer, at her body for doing this now. 

When the little linen roll was inside of her to stop up the blood, she adjusted her clothing and walked back to the others. For a long while she tried to muscle through her pain, but when an especially intense cramp seized her stomach she grabbed onto Solas’ arm to keep herself upright. He was there instantly, supporting her while he slowly guided her to sit on the ground.

“Lethallan,” he said. “What is it?” Then he saw the bandage on her arm and pulled it back to take a better look. “Poison,” he breathed. He looked in her eyes and told her to blink slowly, touched her temple with the back of his hand, and asked her to squeeze her hands into fists. He watched her, evaluated her. The cramps were becoming agonizing now, and Ellana thought that she must be experiencing what childbirth feels like that. She doubled over and cried out, a long, strangled sob. Solas asked the others to step away and he turned his attention back to her.  
“Whatever weapon gave you this wound was poisoned. You are fortunate in that the amount that made it into your blood was very small, because it can be deadly. This poison…some women use it in low doses to rid themselves of pregnancies…” he looked at her questioningly, calculating confusion obvious in his expression.

She couldn’t answer him, couldn’t respond to the implied question he was asking her. But she also didn’t think to deny it and then as he called out to the others she realized that he correctly interpreted her silence as confirmation.

“Let’s get her to the nearest camp, so she can rest,” Solas said. “Can you walk, Lethellan?” He was leaning down, touching her shoulder. She nodded and he helped her up. Emotionally, she was numb and dazed, even as she was in pain. Solas knew. There would be questions. He might tell other people. Cullen might catch wind of the rumor, assume she had told. She didn’t know what he would do but she was scared of him, frightened that if he beat her again he would end up killing her. And he still did have power to hurt her family. These thoughts, however, became less and less important as the cramps grew worse.

She was delirious with exhaustion and pain when they reached the camp. The camp that was still one day from Skyhold. Solas helped her stumble into a tent and collapse on a bedroll. At that point she was too far gone to worry about changing the linen cloth. She had already soaked through it long, and she could feel more fluid leaking out from her. For what felt like hours she huddled there, crying out and trembling with pain. Solas was beside her sometimes, offering her water, or Varric, hand on her back and speaking softly to keep her mind occupied. Eventually the cramps became lighter and she was able to drift off to sleep.

When she woke up again she felt like she was being stabbed. She screamed, bringing Solas to her side shortly after. He lifted a lantern to look at her and he breathed in sharply, barely audibly. Ellana didn’t know what was happening, but she felt her heart sink when he left her again. Didn’t he realize she needed someone? From outside the tent she could her fragments of voices, people stirring and speaking in low, rushed tones.

“We need to get her back to Skyold. I had hoped not to tell you, in respect to her privacy, but now it seems I have no choice. She was pregnant and began to lose the pregnancy yesterday on the road,”

She heard another voice, too low to make out the words, before Solas spoke again.

“I don’t know. That was my first thought as well," Solas said. There were more faint murmmers in response.

 

“We’ll have to discuss that later, after we get her to safety. She’s hemorrhaging, and I am not practiced enough of this sort of healing magic to be of any great help. We need to move as quickly as we can. Send a messenger, tell them to be ready for us with a healer,” he said.

 

She must have passed out,she thought, because the next thing she remembered Bull was carrying her, obviously trying his best not to jostle her as he walked.

“Hey boss,” he said, softly as he realized she was stirring in his arms. “How’re you doing?” She couldn’t find the strength to answer him. Every last bit of her energy was devoted to holding back her screams and bearing the pain that threatened to rip her in half. She only groaned and tensed up as she felt another stab rip through her. 

 

In the next few hours she drifted in and out of consciousness. She was vaguely aware that she kept bleeding, that far too much blood was seeping out of her body, and that it was dripping down Bull’s abdomen. 

“We’re leaving a blood trail,” she heard Varric say beside her, voice thick with some emotion.

“We will have to deal with that risk. She can’t wait, not even for a few minutes,” said Solas.

 

The next time she woke up she felt so unbelievably cold. She was shivering in Bull’s arms, huddling in closer to him to find warmth. She couldn’t tell who was talking, now, as she listened. Couldn’t distinguish the voices.

“She’s lost too much blood. She won't last much longer," someone said.

“We’re almost there,” came another voice in response.

 

Suddenly there was a flurry of activity around her. She frowned, blinking her eyes open to see what was happening, but she found she couldn’t keep them open for more than a second or so. The light was irritating. So was the noise. She was trying so hard to sleep and it had been so long since she had been able to sleep restfully. Couldn’t they leave her alone? Then there was someone beside her, gripping her hand as people worked around her, removing her clothes. She saw flashes of red hair, and heard a soft voice. 

“Stay with us, Inquisitor.” 

Then another voice. A man’s voice, one that made her want to curl up into herself. Made her want to hide. “What’s happened?” he asked.

“We’re not sure yet,” said the woman with the red hair. Ellana was confused too. All she knew was that she hurt, and that it was too bright and too loud. When unconsciousness took her again, she welcomed it.


	11. Chapter 11

Solas stood nearby and watched the healers and surgeons work over the girl. It was a mercy she was barely conscious. They had ushered Leliana and Cullen and the others out of the room shortly after their arrival so they could concentrate on her. Solas they had allowed to stay because he had been there with her and they might need to ask him question. One of them worked between her legs with forceps. Her eyes blinked open sometimes, and she groaned, but mostly she lay still and quiet. 

“…tissue got stuck at her cervix when her body tried to expel it," the surgeon muttered to the healer beside her. "Uterus can’t stop bleeding when that happens…” The others whipsered between each other and their voices were detatched, cinical, but with a harsh edge at the ugliness of the situation.

“...more common in very small women…”

“…scar tissue…”

“…not conscious enough to drink any potions…”

“…elf women carrying human children…”

“…Maker, where did she get these injuries…?”

Solas listened to their hushed chattering and frowned. This was a succinct representation of what the elves had been reduced to. Even the most influential of them was a figurehead—for the chantry, no less—lying bleeding out in an infirmary bed over a child that was most likely forced inside of her. That had to be it. That had to be why she had been so secretive, so ashamed, so scared, when he had asked her.  
He didn’t wait to see if she was going to live, didn’t look over his shoulder as he left the room. He noticed Varric sitting outside of the infirmary as he exited. Good. If she stabilized or if she died, they would give the news to him. He passed Varric without a greeting, headed towards the rookery.

When he arrived, Leliana was there, as he had expected. Gone back to work already. She didn’t look up as he stepped up to her.

“We need to talk. About Ellana Lavellan.”

“You were there. What happened?” she asked. She was leaning over the table, cowl covering her downturned face.

Solas sighed. “She was with child, Leliana,” he said. In response she let a breath out, slow and powerful. A growl, almost. “We were attacked, and she was cut, just deeply enough so the poison on the blade affected her. It was an abortifacient. She started bleeding later that day. Then came the pain. It...debilitated her. We took her to the nearest camp, hoping that she could rest and it would be over by the morning. Halfway through the night she started hemorrhaging.”

“Whose child?” she demanded, voice dangerous.

“That I don’t know. She refused to talk about it. But…there is reason enough to believe that she was forced," he said, leaning into his staff.

“Of course she was.” It sounded more like a realization than anything else. She drew herself upright and walked to stand in front of the altar near her desk, staring at the little flames on the candles. “Do they know if she will live?”

“Not yet," he said.

Leliana paused for a long time, and the only sound they could hear was the flapping of wings around them. “I’ll find the person that did this. We need to know, even if she dies. Especially if she dies.” She turned to face him. “Give me two days. If she makes it through she’ll be bedridden in the infirmary at least until then, where she will be safe. If not…well then it will hardly matter.”

When she appeared to retreat back into herself to consider her plans, he turned to leave, thinking about the darkness he had just seen in her eyes. The simmering anger. If anyone was able to take care of the situation, it would be Leliana. As he winded down the stairs he decided in his psychological weariness not to go check on Lavellan, not to bother himself with her at the moment. It had been too long since he was able to sleep restfully, and he was eager. With that he set about to ready himself for dreams and the Fade, although he found he was unable to keep the image of Ellana screaming and bleeding and broken out of his fatigued mind.


	12. Chapter 12

Ellana woke to the most profound weakness she had ever known. She couldn’t recall what Cullen had done to her the night before, but it must have been especially rough, if she hurt this much. She tried to reach her arm out to stretch, to turn over, but she found she could only barely move. The blankets on top of her felt like they were smothering her, crushing her, and with how fast her heart was beating she thought that she might be dying. It was dark, and she didn’t know where she was. The bed was unfamiliar. It was smaller than her own, the blankets were different and it was pushed up against a wall. When she realized that underneath those blankets she was naked from the waist down, she was afraid that she was going to be sick.Someone must have heard her struggles and her whimpering, because a figure came to her side. 

“It’s alright,” said an invisible voice. “You are safe here.”

“I…I can’t move…” she sobbed. Her throat was dry and her voice broke as she tried to speak.

“You lost well over a third of the blood in your body. You will be very weak, for a time.”

“What happened?” she asked, still tense, still trying to find the energy to pull herself from the bed and flee. She had flashes of memory: the inside of a tent, strong arms around her body, and an ache that carried the remembrance of agony deep inside of her.

“You had a miscarriage," the woman continued. Someone passed by the doorway with a lantern, and Ellana saw her face illuminated, briefly. "Your womb didn’t get all of the tissue remnants form out inside of you, so you couldn’t close and stop the bleeding.”

“Is…is all of it gone now?” Ellana asked, sounding more desperate that she intended.

“Yes, Inquisitor,” she said. Ellana hiccupped a shuddering sign of relief and pain. If she had been able, she would have reached a hand up to grip the woman’s arm, but as it was she could only lay there. “Please. Don’t tell anyone,” she begged.

“The healers that attended you know what happened, as do some of your companions," the woman said. The hints of pity in her voice made Ellana's skin itch. "We are discreet and will not carry the information any further. Sister Leliana has specifically instructed us in that. As far as most people know, you were badly injured in battle.”

She relaxed a little and set her head back. Still, she didn’t know if Cullen had found out. There was a good chance he had been told by the others about why she had almost died. He was part of the inner circle of the Inquisition after all. Even if he had not been specifically told, he would almost certainly guess. What was he going to do to her? She quaked in anticipation of his anger. He had forbidden her from finding a healer in Skyhold for issues related to his couplings with her. What would he think when he found out that nearly a dozen people had seen her carried in unconscious and bleeding from her cunt, and that they knew the reason why?

“I have potions and water for you. Food too, if you can manage,” said the woman, interrupting her thoughts. She gently propped Ellana up so she could drink. Water was first, which was welcome against her dry throat. The potions were more difficult. They were made with liquor as a solvent, and that taste made her stomach turn. She forced herself to choke them down and then she sat trying to eat as the glow of morning began to illuminate the infirmary. She couldn’t swallow more than a few bites before she fell asleep.  
That day Ellana spent her time in the bed, drifting in and out of the fade. Varric was beside her frequently, working on his writing and sometimes reading it to her when she was awake. Iron Bull came to visit her as well, at one point, and she was beyond grateful that neither of them brought up her ordeal more than brief questions about how she was feeling. Now that she was no longer in the moment, dealing with those painful contractions, she was mortified that they had seen her like that. The shame burned hot within her, only shadowed by her fear. Of course she would have her this happen in such a dramatic and uncontrollable way while she was out in the wilds with three men. And though, from what little she remembered, they had shown only respect and consideration for her plight, it still made her uncomfortable. She hated the fact that she had created an emergency, an that it had caused such a spectacle that she had be carried all the way back to Skyhold. Especially embarrassing were the cries she had made when she was in pain. What did the others think of her now, after observing that? She should have tried harder to suppress them, to keep herself quiet. They must think her weak. Attention seeking.

She sighed. Once she had lived her life loud and unashamed. She had been angry when bad things happened to her and to people she loved. As a child, she had often been reprimanded for her inability to holder her tongue. When she came of age, she chose Vallaslin to honor Elgar’nan, All-Father and god of vengeance. She had been brave. After all, she was chosen as the Keeper’s First and then allowed to represent Clan Lavellan at the conclave for a reason. Now everything good inside of her was gone and she couldn't recognize herself. Ever since the catastrophe in the conclave and especially since… well, ever since Cullen… she was empty. She was too numb to feel that motivating anger, even when she passed out from the pain of him reopening tears as he jabbed inside of her. Even when he hit her so hard that she was still dizzy weeks and weeks later. Even when he threatened to kill her family. She only wanted to hide, to disappear into nothing so Cullen wouldn’t hurt her and Varric wouldn’t worry over her and no one would demand that she act as the Herald of Andraste when she still prayed vainly and desperately to Mythal every night. 

She had fallen asleep again, and when she awoke Cullen was sitting beside her in the infirmary. She glanced up at his face, cheeks flushed red with shame, and then looked away, fingers tracing little circles in the sheets. For a long time there was silence between them. They were isolated. There were other patients and attendants, but they mostly stayed on the other side of the room, and the healers hurried in and out and paid them no notice. He couldn’t rape her, not here, but she didn’t doubt his creativity in finding ways to make her suffer. Dread sat heavy in her stomach.

“What have you done?” he said, his voice low and even. She didn’t say anything. Couldn’t say anything. “I told you to do it discreetly and quietly, and this happens?” She turned her head towards the wall and he grabbed her by the thigh and arm beneath the blankets, pulling her to the edge of the bed. He kept a hand at her inner thigh and pinched the skin there. “Look at me,” he demaneded, voice completely even. She did and he released her and sat back, eyes traveling over the form of her body, thinking.

“What am i going to do with you? I could resign from my position. Take you to Tevinter and keep you as a bed slave.” This thought made her tremble and she wasn’t strong enough to keep her eyes from filling with tears. She couldn’t think of a worse fate, to be owned and controlled by him, a man who couldn’t seem to get off unless she was bleeding or crying or both. “Or I could just kill you and be done with you. Be done with this mess you’ve made. I could poison you here at Skyhold. I could take you out with me to investigate something personally and bring you back tragically cut down by our enemies. Or make it simple and strangle you or cut your throat and then dump you in the snow. It would be a shame to waste something so pretty, even something as weak as you. But it might be necessary after what you’ve done. There will be questions.”

“But the rifts?” she said, voice shaking.

“Don’t think yourself so special, girl. The breach is closed. There are only few little rifts scattered about. You are hardly necessary, anymore, and it wouldn’t matter if you were gone.” He stroked her hair, and she closed her eyes as she slowly cried. He had tilted his body so that the action wasn't visible to the rest of the room. “I’ll only do it if you give me no other choice. If you aren’t able to deflect or misdirect the questions.” He was speaking to her gently now, like she was a petulant child. His voice was thick with amused pity.

He kept his hand in her hair as she fell asleep.


	13. Chapter 13

“I’ve failed her, Josie,” Leliana said. “I didn’t see what was happening. It was my job to notice, but I didn’t. I’ve failed her and I’ve failed us.” She had pulled a chair up beside Josephine’s desk, and sat in it, slumped against the chair’s back. A day full of flashbacks and one harrowing realization after another had exhausted her, and she had lost some of her usual poise.

Josie had pushed aside all her reports and set down her pen, and she leaned over the desk. “I do believe that the blame for this belongs to the attacker. Not to you,” she said, with the barest hint of silvery tears shining in her eyes.

“Because of my incompetence she has had to suffer. I could have stopped this long ago,” Leliana said, looking away from Josephine. 

“This has been happening for some time, then?” Josephine asked.

“Yes. Months at least,” said Leliana. Her stomach clenched and she had to force her throat to relax enough to speak. 

“How do you know?” Josephine said as her frown deepened. 

“I’ve asked around, and the servants say that about five months ago she’d told them to never change her sheets. Apparently she was...let’s say uncharacteristically demanding on this point,” Leliana said. “Someone new didn’t know, and found an unusual amount of dried blood upon them.” Josephine fell silent. 

“Blood?” She asked. 

“The bastard’s been hurting her, badly sometimes,” Leliana said, almost hissing out the words. “I spoke to the healers that helped her when they brought her in last night. Along with the complications from her miscarriage she had other problems. Injuries from rape that had been reaggravated again and again. And the two concussions she’s had? Didn’t people say it was strange that she was injured that way as a mage?”

“Do you have any suspicions?” asked Joesphine.

“About who is doing this?” Leliana asked, shaking her head. “I have scoured the reports from my spies over and over again. Reports from the last few months as well as reports from today, after I told some of them what to look for. I can’t find any patterns. Nothing that looks suspicious. The only thing I’ve realized from this is that when she’s not in a meeting with one of us, she barely spends time with anyone. Just Dorian and Varric, occasionally.”

“Surely you have to consider…” Josephine began. Leliana sighed. 

“I have. It just seems too unlikely. The healers say they believed she conceived by a human man, so it wouldn’t be Varric. And as for Dorian... It would be irresponsible of me to ignore him on the basis of his reputation, but she is comfortable around them. She seeks his company. It can’t be him.” Leliana leaned forward. “I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive myself for not having someone set to watch her through the night these past few months. I thought she’d be safe here. I have studied every person who comes in these walls. Any that are even suspected of having connections that could cause them to have ill will towards her are closely watched through her entire stay.” Leliana rolled her lower lip between her teeth and sighed again. “Whoever this person is has been going to her in her room. I don’t know how they evaded my notice. Even though I didn’t have anyone assigned to her, someone should have seen. Either they are unbelievably careful or… I’ve had to consider the possibility that it was one of my spies.”

Josephine furrowed her brow and nodded. “And has she said anything?”

“I do not think she would talk to me. I’ve had Varric ask her a few well-timed questions, and whenever he even hints at the subject, she freezes. Eventually she all but begged him to stop asking about it. He said she seemed terrified. I was more direct when I asked her, and she denied everything no matter how much I pressed.”

“This person...he’s threatening her then,” Josephine realized.

“Yes,” Leliana said, nodding. I believe so. It’s not safe for her to know the extent of our investigations. She wouldn’t be able to hide if from him and there’s no telling what he might do if he finds out.”

“And what if he already knows? What if he is one of your agents?” Joesphine asked.

“I haven’t told most of them,” Leliana said with a sigh. “Only the ones I trust the most, and there are precious few of those.”

“I see,” said Josephine. “And what about while she’s been in the infirmary? Is she safe there?”

“I don’t think he’d be bold enough to come to her there, but still I have taken precautions. Varric’s been at her side for most of the day, at my request, and I’ve had the female healers assigned keep a close eye on her when he’s not around. I didn’t have anyone of my own available that I felt unequivocally comfortable leaving her alone with. I thought I trusted all of my agents, once, but this has shaken me.” There was silence between them, and Josephine stood.

“You didn’t sleep last night, did you?” She asked.

"How could I, Josie?” said Leliana.

“You need to rest. Cassandra and Vivienne have agreed to take turns sitting by her side through the night, yes? She will be safe.”

Leliana finally agreed, and left Josephine to her work.

As Leliana wandered back to her bed, she thought she heard a man’s voice, as clear as if he had come back from the fade to torment her again, as he had all those years ago. 

_I remember the scared little girl in my cell.”_

Leliana gripped the pommel of the knife at her thigh, breath coming faster.

_Prison walls and chains around her. A man’s heavy weight on top of her body. Ugly pain between her legs. ___

__She tried to broaden her shoulders, to project confidence in her gait. If she didn’t keep herself together, if she lost her edge, people would die or suffer as both she and Ellana Lavellan had already suffered._ _

_”You’re quite talented for an Orlesian whore,” Raleigh says, laughing, before he groans and shudders into her._

__She had promised Josephine that she would rest, but when she reached her bed she knew that sleep would not come for her that night._ _


	14. Chapter 14

It took over a week for Ellana to recover enough for her to resume most of her regular duties. The time that she spent in the infirmary was equal parts terrifying and relieving. There was nothing she could do. She couldn’t avoid Cullen if he came to her side, as he did more than once under various pretenses. But at the moment he couldn’t hurt her more than terrorizing her with whispers. Although she always shook with fear by the time he left, she also enjoyed the very small amount of bodily freedom that living under constant watch provided her, even if it was temporary. She was no longer slowly swelling with child, and the emptiness felt so mercifully good. It was also an incredible relief to be free of his fingers, his semen, and his cock inside of her, splitting her and burning her and hurting her. She thought that he might have been telling the truth and that there was a chance he would kill her when he was next able to get her alone. Sometimes she imagined that death at his hands would be more tolerable than being used as pretty toy to break apart. Her biggest fear when considering that possibility was for the life of her clan. Even if she was going to die, family deserved better than her fate.

The Inquisition left for Halamshiral soon after she regained enough of her strength to go about her regular routine. Ellana wasn’t particularly excited for the event. She hardly needed more humans ogling at her, and the dress she was expected to wear dipped low on her shoulders and chest and made her uncomfortable. When they announced her at the ball she felt like a ghost. There were so many people and all of them wanted to talk to her. It seemed like everyone was staring at either tops of her breasts, her ears, or her Vallaslin and all the eyes on her made her want to hide. She was always saying the wrong thing and stumbling around at exactly the wrong moment, and by the time Leliana suggested that she go search the library she was relieved to get away. 

She shouldn’t have been surprised when she felt a hand on her shoulder after she stepped into the little office that joined the library. 

“Do you know how many people Leliana has had watching you these past few weeks?” Cullen asked as he closed the door behind them. Immediately, her legs almost buckled beneath her, and she felt that she couldn’t catch her breath. He led her to the chaise against the wall with no resistance on her part, and pushed her down upon it. The moonlight shone through the window in a single, thin ray that cut across his body, illuminating his hands. He lifted her skirt to her waist and pulled down her underclothes and as he climbed on top of her, she couldn’t see his face well enough to read his expression. 

“She doesn’t know what happened to you.” His hands were at his hips, working open his belt. “She’s been frantically looking for answers. You’ve been watched every hour since you returned to Skyhold. Until now.” He pushed a finger inside her, trying to open her up and provoke even the slightest bit of moisture so he wouldn’t have to struggle quite so much. It hardly worked, if at all. When he took his cock in his hand and pressed it against her, it hurt as much as it always did. He sighed against the crook of her neck when he was fully inside her. “I’ve missed you,” he said. “You’ve done well and I don’t think I’ll have to kill you after all. I think her worry will subside with time, especially as the demands of the Inquisition grow more pressing.” She didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed.

Ellana tried to float away in her mind as he used her body. She tried to ignore the pain and the humiliation. She didn’t know how long she thought of aravels and halla and her sisters and the clan’s keeper. She only knew that for a time it almost felt real. Then she felt him change pace on top of her, and she came back to reality. “Please,” she begged as he shoved into her faster and faster. “Please. Kill me if you have to but don’t force me to carry your child again. Please.”

He only squeezed her tighter and wrapped his fingers in her hair. “You don’t get a say in this,” he said and clenched the fist in her hair, tugging at the roots and making her wince. She felt her soul fracture as he filled her.

“You are mine now,” he panted, and he rested his entire weight on her. “Even if I can’t come to you as often, for a time. You are mine, and you will never be able to forget.” He planted a brief kiss on her cheek and then stood up, refastening his clothing. Then he reached down and tossed her underclothes back at her.

“Let’s get you back to the ball. I want to see you try to dance with my seed inside of you,” he said, an idle smile ghosting over his lips. 

She fought back tears as she adjusted her skirts.


	15. Chapter 15

Weeks later, Cullen watched the girl trembling before him. She had just returned from a lengthy journey outside of Skyhold, and she sat in his office with her companions discussing what had happened on the mission. Throughout the meeting, he could barely keep himself focused on rifts and reinforcements. Ellana knew. She knew that he would have her that night, and soon. He had often conducted individual debriefings, with her and others, and no one would think twice if hers was a little longer than normal. He would save hers for last, and then really enjoy her.

“Cassandra, would you stay first?” he said when he felt he could no longer wait. He wanted to get this over with, so he could get Ellana alone. “The rest of you can go, except you, Inquisitor. I’ll have Cassandra get you when we’re done. I’ll try to make this quick. I’m sure you’ll want to rest.” Ellana nodded, and filtered out with the rest. As she walked out the door she looked over her shoulder, and the broken, fearful expression he saw there sent heat straight to his groin. He shifted in his chair, and turned to Cassandra. 

 

When it was finally Ellana’s turn, she walked back in stooped over and obviously scared. He smiled, genuinely. The girl had never walked like that when they’d first met. 

“Lock the doors,” he commanded and set a key on the desk. She looked up at him, surprised at the simultaneously mundane and symbolic task. She would help build her own prison walls tonight. Nodding and biting her lip, she picked up the key. It was hard for her to accomplish the task with her shaking hands, and watching her struggle with the locks while she knew what would come next was incredibly arousing. He could barely wait until she was done before he swept the papers and candles off of his desk, scooped her into his arms, and dumped her against the tabletop. She didn’t cry when he took her dry and unprepared, but she bled plenty. When he was done she scrambled off the desk, nervous and quivering like a mouse. He fell to his chair and leaned back as he watched her straighten her clothing and hair, and then he went back to work.


	16. Chapter 16

When Ellana stumbled up the stairs to her bedroom, she immediately dropped her pack collapsed onto the bed. She curled into herself, arms crossed over her belly, trying to soothe the physical ache inside of her from the most recent assault alongside the sorrow. There was absolutely nothing left of her. Cullen had finally taken everything good about her and now she was empty. She would have to let him touch her, kiss her, and hurt her as often as he could get her alone for as long as he desired.

_You are mine and you will never be able to forget it._

There was one little bit of resistance that she still held onto, that let her cling onto sanity. She pulled herself from the bed and knelt beside her pack, and then pulled out the satchet of herbs from a pocket. She had gone again to the healer in Redcliffe for more herbs on their most recent journey, and the woman had given her quite a lot this time. Though her will was all but broken, she was telling the truth when she had said that she would rather die than conceive again. It was the worst violation she could imagine and she would do anything to prevent it.

She had not had a chance to take her contraceptive after he’d cornered her in the Winter Palace. Ever since then she had been terrified that the one encounter had produced another pregnancy. She considered the herbs thoughtfully, and began to heat water over her fire. Taking her clay mug in hand, she dropped a pinch inside, as she had been instructed to do. 

The healer had told her that the herbs were essentially a mild poison, and that it would be very dangerous if she took more than the small amount she had been shown. That thought seemed to echo in her mind. Even if she wasn’t pregnant now, how long could that last? 

She took the satchet and dumped more into her mug, enough to fill it a quarter of the way full. Though she trembled as she poured the water over the herbs, she felt calm for the first time in months. As the herbs steeped, she let them sit much longer than she usually did. No taking chances. Not with this. When she deemed them potent enough she took big gulps of the hot liquid, not bothering to strain out the water-saturated leaves like she was supposed to. She drank them alongside the tea, chocking them down even as her stomach protested. 

When she was finished she did it again, and again, until the herbs were gone. _I’m going to die,_ she thought as she set the mug down, and the though was more exhilarating then upsetting. This would make him angry. This would take her away from him forever. She lay down on her bed, fighting the urge to vomit, ready to wait out whatever came.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s a list of international suicide hotlines of you’re struggling. Take care of yourselves, friends. ❤️http://ibpf.org/resource/list-international-suicide-hotlines


	17. Chapter 17

Leliana sat in the rookery, pouring over papers. It was becoming harder and harder to find time to research and investigate about the situation with Ellana Lavellan. The Inquisition continued to grow, and with that came an expansion of her duties. As much as she longed to protect her, there simply wasn’t time to do so as well as she would like. She was sure to always have agents watching her, from a distance, making sure that no one entered her room during the night. So far no one had tried. Which meant that whoever had done this before knew that she was being watched. Leliana was almost certain that Ellana had been left alone since her miscarriage, and that at least was something.

 

She looked up as one of her agents approached her desk. It was the one she had asked to follow Ellana and watch her during the journey. Ellana had chosen Cassandra, Dorian, and Varric to accompany her, and Leliana was certain that she could trust those three. Still, she couldn’t take any chances on anyone else that Ellana could meet in her travels.

“Anything unusual?” Leliana asked?

“Yes,” the agent answered, twisting her hands nervously.

“What did you find?” she asked, dread heavy in her belly.

“On the way back, when they were passing through the Hinterlands, she broke away from the group. She went to a house in Redcliffe. I questioned the woman inside, after she left, and I found…” 

Leliana stared at her, sick to her stomach at the expression on her agent’s face. “Go on,” she urged.

“The woman has been treating her for months, for….for trauma to the vagina and cervix, and for contraception.”

Leliana raised her head upward, eyes closed, and sighed. “And she healed Inquisitor Lavellan when she visited her this time as well?”

“Yes.”

Leliana felt crushed. This person had gotten to Ellana even as she watched her, even as she had tried to keep her safe. “Thank you,” Leliana said. “Leave your written report and you can go.”

 

Leliana poured over the report, trying to find any moment where she had been alone while she was out on the mission. She read and reread and crosschecked it with other accounts and though until she could barely see straight. Just as she was about to push them aside and retire to bed, another of her spies came to her. She had assigned him to watch Ellana when she came home, and to report back to her.

“She’s been in her room for a few hours now,” he told her. “Nothing suspicious.”

“Tell me everything she did after arriving at Skyhold,” she said, rising from her chair.

“Well, she went with the others to meet with Commander Rutherford, followed by one-on-one debriefings.”

A terrible thought occurred to Leliana, and it set her heart racing before she even had time to fully consider it. “And she was alone, with him?” she asked breathlessly.

“Yes, Sister Nightingale,” he said, confused at the desperate tone in her voice.

“How did she seem when she left his office? What did she do?” She asked, leaning forward over the desk.

“She went directly to her room. She seemed…tired,” he said.

“Thank you,” she said, collapsing back to her seat. “You may go.”

Once his footsteps faded, Leliana thumbed frantically through her reports, looking for more evidence to support her hypothesis. 

_No one has seen anyone go into her room with any frequency aside from Sera, Lady Montilyet, and Commander Rutherford._ She read from one of her reports. It was not uncommon for either her, Josephine, or Cullen to go to her and notify her of a war council, or ask her for a quick answer to a question regarding her position. Leliana had not stopped to consider that Cullen going into her room could be more than routine.

But…it was Cullen. He was their commander. He seemed so responsible, so earnest, so wholesome. But then she thought of Marjolaine. She thought of her wit, her charm. She thought of how they had met when Marjolaine was twenty-five and Leliana was just sixteen. She thought of how confused she had been when the dazzling and worldly woman guided her to the bed and kissed her and put a hand up her skirt and worked a finger inside of her. She thought of the knife in her gut and the scar she still bore. 

Charming people made the best liars.

It didn’t take her much longer to convince herself that she was right. There was plenty of evidence now that she knew where to look. She sat back, overwhelmed and unable to decide what to do.


	18. Chapter 18

Ellana didn’t remember falling asleep. But when she woke she felt a hand stroking her forehead, and instinctively moved to push it away. As she tried to lift her arm, she realized that she was not strong enough, even for that. She whimpered and the sound barely left her lips. 

“Hush, Da’len,” said a soft voice. Ellana stilled.

“Keeper?” she asked, trying to blink her eyes open. They were so heavy that she couldn’t manage it.

“Ellana, my beloved. My First. You are not well, Da’len.” With her unoccupied hand, the keeper grasped one of Ellana’s and squeezed it gently. “They’ve hurt you, haven’t they?”

“I…I didn’t stop him, Keeper,” Ellana said, sobs beginning to shake her body. “I didn’t know what to do so I let him...”

“Shhh, child. It was his job to keep you safe. He failed you. It was never your duty to protect yourself from him. He violated your trust in addition the trust of everyone else around you. You have nothing to be ashamed of,” said the Keeper’s voice. 

“I would say that for others, but not for me,” Ellana whispered. “I’m useless now. The only thing I know how to do is to bring him pleasure. To let him have me.”

“Is that what you want, Da’len?” The keeper asked.

“No!” she cried, trying again and failing to open her eyes. “I hate this. I hate him. But...not more than I hate me.”

“And that’s the reason why your attempt at revenge involves your death and not his?” The woman had stopped stroking her hair, had broken all physical contact.

“I should have fought harder. I could have figured out a way to stop this,” Ellana said, squeezing her eyes shut. The keeper paused. 

“You are right. You are weak. It’s better that you’re dying. It’s better that you don’t come back. I don’t think we could have loved you again, should you have returned. Not after what he’s done to you.”

Ellana couldn’t bear to look up to see her walk away.

 

The next time she came to any semblance of awareness, she found herself in an aravel. There were lips on hers and she felt suffocated by their hungry movement. She looked up to see the Keeper’s granddaughter, the first girl she had kissed. The first girl she had loved. Ellana tried to struggle away.

“I thought this was what you wanted? You seemed eager enough last night,” she said and pinned her to the ground. Sera was beside them, watching.

“Don’t trust this one” Sera said to the other girl. “More than happy to jump into his bed the same night you left me, yeah?”

They held her down together, one on each side, while Cullen climbed atop her and brought a knife to her neck before slowly and firmly dragging it over her throat. 

 

At that moment she was thrown into lucidity and she realized that she was shivering. It had grown dark while her mind wandered in delirium, and outside her windows she could see the beginnings of a snowstorm swirling about. She moved to curl under the blankets. The fire had gone out, but it shouldn’t have been as cold as it was, even so. Her heart fluttered in her chest much too quickly and her mouth was dry. The worst, however, was the agonizing, full-body feeling of nausea. She couldn’t stop herself from letting out a groan of pain. It would get much worse, she knew, before it was over. This was only the beginning of her agony. As she curled deeper under the blankets she begged Mythal to let it be as quick as possible.


	19. Chapter 19

Leliana stopped in front of Josephine’s door. She had likely only just fallen asleep, but Leliana needed her. Though she dreaded sharing her realization, she knew that she could not handle this without Josephine. Leliana’s first instinct was violence. But that would likely throw the Inquisition into chaos. Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the door.

She could hear Josephine stirring and rising from her bed from behind the door. As she waited she fought to keep herself collected. No matter what happened, she couldn’t let her anger overpower her judgement. She had to remember that.  
When Josephine peeked out, her eyes widened. “Leliana, I…” she began. Leliana cut her off.

“I need you, Josephine,” she said, pushing past her, not waiting to be invited into the room. Josephine didn’t blink at that, just closed the door and pulled up a chair for Leliana while she settled on the bed.

“What is it, Leliana?” Josephine said. She could likely sense the tension in Leliana’s body, and she seemed concerned.

“It’s Cullen, Josephine,” Leliana said, struggling to keep the tone of her voice low and even. Josephine wrinkled her brow.

“What do you mean? Has he been hurt?” Josephine asked. Leliana felt like she might vomit.

“He’s the one who’s been forcing Ellana,” she finally spit out. Josephine fell silent and sat back.

“You are certain?” She asked, worrying her lip with her teeth.

“Yes,” said Leliana. Josephine was silent. “I’m going to kill him Josie. The things he’s done to her…”

“No,” Josephine said, looking upwards thoughtfully. “We have to hold a trial. If it appears he was assassinated that would ruin our credibility.”

“Our credibility, Josie?” Leliana yelled, standing up out of her chair, “You want her to stand before everyone in Skyhold and tell them he’s raped her over and over again? To sentence and kill him herself, in front of everyone? What would that do to our credibility?” Leliana turned to face the window and watched the snow swirling outside. “We can’t do that to her.” 

“Can you detain him, at least? We’ll keep it among ourselves, then talk to Inquisitor Lavellan. We’ll find out exactly what happened and deal with it from there,” Josephine said.

“Fine,” Leliana sighed. “But if he resists I will kill him. I’m going to go wake Cassandra. I’ll need her help.” She turned to leave, and then hesitated. “Do you think I should send someone to be with Lavellan?” she asked Josephine. “I have people watching her door, as usual, but he…he attacked her when she returned to Skyhold today. There’s a good chance she’ll need healing, if we go by how he’s treated her in the past. 

“I would let her rest,” said Josephine. “It’s better that we talk to her after we have Cullen imprisoned. I’d imagine it would be less…upsetting that way.” Leliana nodded, then left Josephine, fists clenching in anticipation of what was to come.


	20. Chapter 20

The time passed unmercifully slowly. Ellana lay under her covers, moaning and sometimes crying out with pain. She wasn’t sure what she said when she screamed. She may have been begging for her parents, her sisters, her Keeper. She may have been pleading with the elven gods. Her cries may even have been wordless. She felt like she was suffocating, and between the sobs and her shortness of breath she was beginning to gasp for air. Still, the pain in her lower back was worse. She thought that she had experienced the most intense pain she would ever feel when she miscarried, but now she knew she was wrong. 

She was scared. Part of her longed to find someone and ask for help, especially if it might make the pain stop. Of course, there was a chance that she had already done the necessary damage to her body and that all the attention of a healer would do was prolong her suffering. Plus, she wasn’t sure if could make it out of her room, considering how weak she was. She screwed her eyes shut and moaned again.

“Ellana,” said a voice beside her, pestering her and bringing her into a full awareness the terrible pain.

“Go away,” she said, and turned her face into the pillow. She tried to remember what was happening to her, but she only became more and more confused as she thought about it. What had she done, again, that made her feel so terrible? She vaguely remembered a list of symptoms, but couldn’t remember why they might happen, or who had given her the list. Nausea. Pain. Kidney failure. Heart damage. Hallucinations…. Wait, was she hallucinating? She opened her eyes to see her sister’s face beside her.

“Ellana, you need to get help,” she begged, tugging on her arm.

“No, Lethallan. If I live he’ll never stop. I can’t bear that,” she said, and then gasped in pain.

“You can find help. There are people here who care for you. They don’t want to see you hurting. They don’t want to see you die.” She paused. “I don’t want you to die, Ellana.”

“I think it’s too late for me,” Ellana said, and she realized her cheeks were wet.

“You have to try, Lethallan, please,” said her sister, eyes filling with her own tears. Then suddenly she was gone. Ellana managed to sit up and she looked around the empty room, quiet save for the storm outside. 

Standing up seemed impossible. But she was so scared. The pain was only getting worse and it was already more that she could stand. She swung a leg over the edge of the bed and managed to drag herself to her feet. Stumbling a few feet to the railing was agony, and she was sure her heart was about to burst from the effort. Then came the stairs. She went down the first several successfully, but she soon misstepped and was sent tumbling down the rest. She lay dazed at the bottom of the staircase. Something had snapped in her right arm when she fell, and that only added to the pain. Her vision was slowly getting blurry, and she could no longer hear anything at all, not even herself when she cried out. She was blacking out. There was no other way to close the rest of the distance to the door other than to crawl. When she was right beside it she slumped against it and looked up at the door handle. She reached out to grab it, but couldn’t reach that far, and her vision was fading quickly now. After all this, she was going to die there, hunched against the door. With the last of her strength, she pushed herself up in a quick motion. The handle twisted and the door fell open, spilling her into the throne room. Before she could even check to see if anyone was there to find her, the world went black.


	21. Chapter 21

When she finally had Cassandra, Varric, Bull, and Josephine gathered in the rookery, she looked over their faces, dully illuminated in the candlelight. She had told them each, individually, when she had gone to wake them.

“We’ll have to find a new commander,” said Cassandra, holding herself straight, hair still messy from sleep. “Are you sure it’s him? There is no chance you are mistaken?” Leliana took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She was upset at what her negligence had cost Ellana, exhausted and irritable with the entire situation. And everyone seemed so reluctant to believe her, even now.

“I’m certain, Cassandra,” Leliana said. “There is ample evidence. Would you like me to read you some? Because it seems that you are more concerned with inconvenience of replacing him than you are with the fact that he’s a violent rapist.” Josephine rushed to her side, putting a hand on her shoulder.

“Please, Leliana. This won’t get us anywhere,” Josephine said, softly. “Just tell us the plan.” Leliana sighed and fell into her seat. 

“We’re going to surround him in his office,” Leliana said. “I’ll see if I can get a confession out of him, then we’ll restrain him, and imprison him in the dungeons.”

“And if he won’t confess?” asked Varric. He had been nearly silent so far, but his feelings about the situation were clear in his eyes.

“We’ll still lock him away,” said Leliana. 

“What are you going to do with him then?” asked Bull.

“We are still undecided. Talking to Inquisitor Lavellan will be our next step,” she said, then stood. “Let’s not waste any more time. Let’s go.”

It was bitterly cold outside, and the snow was falling faster. By the time they reached the door to Cullen’s office, they were soaked and nearly blinded. Still, Leliana could pick the locks easily enough. There was hardly a chance that anyone would see them there, with the raging storm. Even if they did, because of their positions, no one would be overly concerned with the four of them trying to enter his office. She felt a grim sense of satisfaction when she realized that Cullen had used the very same respect for authority to abuse Ellana. When she managed to get the door open she half expected to see him sitting in wait for them, but the room was dark and it appeared that he had retired to bed in the loft.

When climbed up the ladder, she could see him, lying still on his back in the bed. Varric, Cassandra, and Bull climbed up beside her. Leliana took a moment to gather herself as she took her knife from its sheath and walked toward him. She knelt on top of him, digging her knees into his chest and holding the knife at his throat. 

He woke with a start, and tried to wrestle away from Leliana. When he saw the knife he stilled.

“Why,” she asked, unflinching as she stared at him.

“What are you doing? Get off of me!” He grunted.

“It’s not so enjoyable when the roles are reversed, is it now?” she said, pressing the knife against him and drawing just the tiniest bit of blood. He gasped.

“What are you talking about?” He said, looking around the room at the others standing there and still blinking sleep from his eyes. 

“You see a pretty young woman, an elf, far away from her family and her home, far away from any familiar social structure to give her support. Did you think that no one would care if you took what you wanted? Did you think that no one would notice?” Leliana said, nearly panting in anger. 

“Is that how she tells it,” he said, forcing a chuckle. “She came to me, begging me to sleep with her the very night that Sera left her. I think it might have been for revenge. But now she regrets it, wants to call it rape…” Leliana touched the knife against his skin and pressed as firmly as she could without breaking skin again.

“I don’t need to hear more of your lies. She wanted it, and that’s why you make her bleed? That’s why she barely eats?” She pressed a knee into his chest as hard as she could. “That’s why, when you almost killed her by getting her with child, she tried to hide it even as she was dying?” 

“That’s not…” he began.

“If you move again I will kill you,” she warned, interrupting him. “I know of people like you. Powerful. Handsome. Well-liked. More than happy to hide behind your position and your respect and do as you please. Now answer me this: why? How did you rationalize forcing her? There is always justification, isn’t there.” 

“Everyone thinks she is so perfect! So blameless,” he said, growing angry. “She’s a murderer, too volatile to be trusted to control her magic. She’s killed five people, in cold blood.”

“I’m not interested in what you say she’s done,” Leliana said, firmly, dispassionately. She had gotten as close to a confession as she needed. “Bull. Varric,” she prompted, looking up.

Varric kept his crossbow aimed on him as Bull turned him over and tied his hands behind his back.

 

As they led him towards the prison, Leliana was glad for the cover of the night and the storm. The fewer people saw them, then fewer questions would be asked. However, as they entered through the throne room there was an unusual bustle for that time of the night. Leliana frowned, scanning the room. 

“Take him,” Leliana said to the others, running towards the crowd. As she approached them, Josephine found her.

“It’s Lavellan,” said Josephine, out of breath. “They think she’s tried to kill herself.”


	22. Chapter 22

Ellana heard the voices as if she was underwater.

“She won’t respond to her title. What’s her first name? Aleria?” someone asked. She turned her head away from the light and the sound, hoping to drift away again.

“I think it’s Ellana,” said someone else. She opened her eyes. Were they talking about her? Why were they talking about her? 

“She’s awake!” People were around her, beside her, and she just wanted to disappear from the attention and most of all from the pain. 

“I need you to answer a few questions,” said a man—an elf— who stood beside her. We need to know what you took, and how much.” She closed her eyes, too exhausted to try and make sense of her surroundings or his question.

“Ellana,” he said again, resting a hand on her shoulder. “We want to help you, but we can’t if we don’t know.” What did he mean? Help her? And then she remembered. She had swallowed so many poisonous herbs that they were likely currently shutting down her body. She wondered how long it would take for her to die. The pestering questions and constant noise were keeping her from losing consciousness again.

“Please, Ellana,” he said, and gently squeezed her shoulder. 

“It was a contraceptive. I…I don’t know what was in it,” she said through gritted teeth.

“Do you have any more? Where did you get it?”

“I drank all of it,” she said, her words dragging. She had made sure that there wasn’t so much as a leaf left, for this very purpose. “I got it from a woman, a healer in Redcliff,” she continued. A woman at the healer’s side spoke up. 

“I think I might know the person she’s talking about,” she said. “The woman used to give the blend to people in the circle. I know what was in it.” Ellana closed her eyes again,

“Please, try to stay awake. How much did you drink?” The man asked. 

“Three months worth,” she said, though mumbling the answer felt like an impossible exertion. 

“How long ago?” he asked, breathless.

“Three hours? Six?” said Ellana. His lips tightened into a thin line and he turned to the others at his side.

“She’s nearly unconscious,” said the woman. “If we try to induce vomiting, it’s likely she’d aspirate in this state. Plus, those herbs are taken into the body quickly. It wouldn’t do her any good.”

They had stopped asking her questions, but Ellana was still pulled between sleep and painful awareness by the sounds and lights in the room. She knew that the healers spoke and moved around her, though she could no longer understand what there were saying. It didn’t matter. She couldn’t change the situation either way, and there was a certain peace in the powerlessness. There was nothing left for her to do, nothing left for her to struggle against. She heard her name again, through the haze of her mind, but there was no strength left in her to respond before she slipped back into nothingness.


	23. Chapter 23

Leliana sat alone across the infirmiry, watching the healers work over Inquisitor Lavellan. She seemed unconscious, and Leliana knew better than to distract the healers with questions about her condition. So she waited. Josephine had sat with her at first, but after an hour drew into two, Leliana had convinced her to go get some rest. Honestly, Leliana should have also gone back to her duties, or to sleep. She had so much to do, and sitting around wouldn’t help anyone. Still, it just seemed so sad, to leave her. There was no one else to wait for her. She had friends, people who enjoyed her company, but no one devoted to her like family. Nothing close to that. There was only so much time that Dorian or Varric could spare to sit by her bedside, as she had found out when Ellana was previously bedridden, and beyond that Leliana knew she would be alone. If she was going to die, it was only right that she have someone by her side that cared about her death as more than the anonymous Herald of Andraste. Besides, all of this could have been avoided if Leliana had been more vigilant. If she had not been blinded by the person she thought Cullen was.

This was her fault.

When the activity around Lavellan slowed, and a healer walked away from her bedside, Leliana stopped him.

“How is she?” Leliana asked. 

“It’s very hard to tell. We’ve cleansed her blood and tried to temper the damage as best we could, but she endured the poison for hours before she came to us. With the support of healers she will probably live, at least for a little while, but it’s hard to say what kind of lasting effect this could have on her. If she does well enough to regain consciousness, she might try again, once she is able. We’ll need to have someone attentive right beside her, even through the night, for a week at least.”

“So she did try to take her life?” Leliana asked.

“Yes. She did,” said the healer. Leliana fought to keep emotion off of her face and out of her voice.

“When do you think she will wake?” Leliana asked.

“Maybe six hours, or twelve. Maybe never,” he said, and shook his head as he pushed passed Leliana and walked away.

She wanted to stay, but she was so tired that her vision was beginning to blur. After glancing one last time at Ellana’s still form in the bed, she walked out, into the snow. With the moisture and redness on her face from the ice and cold, it was easy to pretend that she felt no emotion, that she didn’t shed any tears over Ellana Lavellan and how she had failed, over and over again, to protect her.


	24. Chapter 24

Leliana woke to the sound of a knock at the door. She snapped up in her bed, grasping the knife at her side beneath the covers. It took her a moment to orient herself to time and place. The knock sounded a second time. She left the knife strapped at her leg, and threw the covers off of herself. The floor was cold on her bare feet as she opened the door with a long creak.. The early morning light illuminated the face of one of her spies.

“Sister Nightingale. A letter from your agent near Wycome. You asked this be brought to you as soon as it arrived,” he said, obviously uncomfortable with having to wake her. Leliana felt her heart start to race as she thanked him and took the letter from his hands, struggling in the dim glow of morning to light a candle. They had decided on trying to resolve the situation in Wycome by getting some of the Dalish inside the city. It was a risk that could have gone horribly wrong. Leliana remembered Ellana and her fragile state. There would be no putting her back together if the situation had gone badly at the cost of the lives of her people. She ripped open the seal and held it to the light, reading it so fast that her brain skipped around between words, barely understanding.

“….almost all merchants and laborers in the city saw that the Dalish were attempting to help, and banded with them to fight against the madness that had taken their nobility…for now, the Dalish are seen as heroes in Wycome. They remain in the city, uncertain of what to do next.” She set down the letter and sighed against the table in relief. The situation was as stable as she could ask for. She sat back down to the bed, her exhausted body aching for more sleep. She was about to set the letter down when she realized that there was a smaller letter sealed among the pages of the first. She picked it up and almost broke open the seal before she saw who it was addressed to.   
_Ellana, First to Keeper Istimaethoriel of Clan Lavellan._

She knew that it wise for her to open it and read the contents before giving it to Ellana. It might be an invasion of her privacy, but she needed to make sure there was nothing too upsetting, nothing that would hinder Ellana’s recovery. It was easy enough for Leliana’s practiced hands to warm a knife over the candle so she could use it to peel the seal off the paper without breaking it.

Leliana’s racing heart began to slow as she read. It was notes from Keeper Istimaethoriel, her parents, her sisters, and friends. Ellana desperately needed this. At least, she would if she pulled through. She drug herself from the bed, and began to dress over the grey linen shirt and trousers she had slept it. It was probably past time for her to check on Ellana.

She was sitting propped up in the bed and staring into the distance when Leliana walked in. Her eyes were bloodshot, and she wrinkled her brow in obvious pain. The attendant beside her was holding a clay cup, trying to get her to drink. Until that moment, Leliana didn’t realize just how much energy she had used in concern for her. The relief that Ellana was alive and seemed coherent nearly brought her to her knees. She walked towards the bed, where the woman was arguing with her.

“You lost a lot of fluids yesterday. You need to drink,” said the attendant. Ellana sighed and reached for the cup. Her hands were clumsy, and the healer had to place it directly in her grasp and help her lift it. She made a face and almost choked after she brought it to her lips.

“What is this?” she said with a raspy voice.

“Medicinal tea with honey. You’ll need to drink all of this within the half hour and then I’ll have more for you,” she said. Ellana stared at the mug dully. Leliana stepped next to the bed, getting the attention of the attendant. 

“May I have a word with Inquisitor Lavellan?” Leliana asked.

“I’m…I’m not permitted to leave her side,” she said, growing visibly nervous as she looked Leliana up and down.

“It won’t be long, and it’s Inquisition business. I insist,” said Leliana, gesturing away from the bed. The woman took the mug and set it on the bedside table before reluctantly stepping away, leaving the two of them in silence. Leliana took the chair beside the bed, and sat back, trying to figure out the words to say next.

“When did you wake up?” she asked. Ellana frowned, shifting her weight beneath the covers. 

“I’m not sure,” she said, looking away. “It’s a blur.”

“And do you remember last night?” said Leliana, leaning forward.

“Yes,” she whispered, her voice quivering. “Most of it, at least.” Silence stretched between them and Leliana could see the shame burning on her face. She didn’t know what to say. What could she say? She had tried to take her life, after surviving abuse of which Leliana still did not know the extent. Then she realized that she probably didn’t know…

“We imprisoned Cullen last night. He won’t be able to hurt you anymore,” said Leliana feeling awkward and tactless in a way she hadn’t felt since she was young and at Marjolaine’s side. When Ellana heard this she froze, and the look on her face was undiluted panic. 

“No,” she said. “No. You don’t understand.” Her voice broke with tension and she covered her mouth with one hand, eyes filling with tears. 

“I don’t know exactly what was happening, but I know enough,” Leliana said. Ellana shook her head, tears running out of her tightly closed eyes.

“It was me. Those people, in Wycome. I killed them, when I was sixteen. I don’t remember how everything happened. But they’re dead. And I’m alive. I…I don’t deserve any better than this,” said Ellana.

Leliana leaned back, genuinely a little surprised. She didn’t think Cullen had been telling the truth about even this. Still, there was a good chance that he had twisted her perception of the events. She would have to spend some time combing through the details to get a better picture of what happened. But now was not the time.

“No matter what you did, no one deserves rape and torture. There is nothing you have power to do that would justify what he has done,” said Leliana.

“But he said he would make sure that Duke Antoine knew, if I told anyone. He’ll find a way to tell him. They’re going to kill my family…” 

“Inquisitor, Duke Antoine is dead,” said Leliana. Ellana’s head shot up, Leliana explained the situation and Ellana sobbed weak, silent tears of exhaustion and of relief. “I have a letter addressed to you,” Leliana continued, setting the flawlessly resealed papers in front of her. “From Clan Lavellan, I believe.” She picked up the letter, and the poor thing was shaking too badly to be able to open it. Leliana gestured to offer her help, and Ellana nodded. She broke the seal, straightened the papers, and handed them back to Ellana. As she read, the effect of the warm words was obvious. When it appeared she had read the letters several times, she lay back, some of the tension seeping out of her.

“You are supposed to be drinking this, I believe,” Leliana said, picking up the cup from the bedside table, and putting it back in Ellana’s hands. “Please. As far as I understand, your condition is still serious.” Ellana took the mug but didn’t drink. Leliana frowned as she looked at her more closely. Her face was swollen from more than just crying, and her eyes still seemed to have trouble focusing. She was going to have to get a healer back to her side very soon. It was obvious that she was still medically fragile, and it would only get worse if she wasn’t drinking properly. After managing a single sip, she stared into the distance again, deep in thought.

“Does everyone know? About…him? About me?” Ellana asked. Leliana sighed, and considered her words carefully.

“There are several who know. I’m sorry. My first priority was to ensure your physical safety, and I needed help to do that. Others may have guessed what has been happening on their own,” Leliana said. Ellana was looking teary again, and so Leliana decided to move on. “We need to talk about what to do with Cullen,” said Leliana. Ellana froze again. “..but first I need to know the extent of what he did to you. How many times did this happen?” asked Leliana. Ellana purposely stared at her lap, body rigid with tension.

“Almost every day that I was at Skyhold. Occasionally more,” said Ellana.

“And he hit you?” said Leliana.

“Yes,” she said. Biting her lip.

“Until you were unconscious, judging by the concussions?” asked Leliana. Ellana just looked down, unable to answer more than a nod. “And how many times?”

“Four? Five? I don’t remember. He would…I’m pretty sure he would…while I was unconscious.” She broke out into tears again and Leliana let her cry. 

“What else?”

“He threatened to kill me. Told me he was going to slit my throat if he thought someone was about to find out. And I think…I think he was always trying to make me bleed when he…” It seemed like she couldn’t bear to finish the sentence. “I can’t stand that everyone knows. I feel so weak. So useless. I could have stopped it. Done something. Done anything.”

“That isn’t true,” she said, and Ellana was silent. Leliana’s heart was beating too fast. She hated vulnerability about some of her past experiences, but Ellana needed this. She took a deep breath. “Do you find me weak, Inquisitor? Useless, maybe?” Leliana saw her eyes grow big as she began to understand. “You’re not the only one who has had people take what you were not willing to give. It doesn’t mean you deserved it because you did not stop it.” Ellana closed her eyes, trying to keep her lip from quivering. Leliana stood and then continued “We are going to have meeting to settle this. Will you be able attend? No one will force you to come, but we could use your opinion.” Ellana looked down, brow furrowed, and she nodded. Leliana smiled sadly, wishing she had anything more to say. As she left, Leliana called over the attendant to continue Ellana’s suicide watch, and then she exited the infirmary to go back to her work, heart still heavy within her.


End file.
